Cause for Concern ✓

twelve

MONDAY. 04. OCTOBER.

HIS lungs were full of butterflies; he was the most alive he'd been in months. He was probably freezing but right now he couldn't feel it. His legs could've carried him for miles. His fingers could've grazed the stars. The smile on his face felt like it belonged there and his eyes were bright, wild. He was almost certain his heart had grown wings and flown right out through his throat.

"I can't believe she didn't see us," Carter said, his teeth gleaming white when he grinned. "She was right there— right in the room!"

"Maybe you were right," Max agreed, tilting his head back towards the sky and inhaling sharply. The air was cool and carried a slight breeze. It reminded him of how young he was. "Maybe the universe really was on our side tonight."

"See! I'm always right about something," he said, walking backwards down to the street to face Max, his eyes like crystals shining out of a cave. "It's a gift."

"Whatever," Max said, rolling his eyes, the remnants of a smile still lingering on his lips. "I guess planting the weed was a good call after all."

"A good call? It saved our asses!"

"Fine. It was a great call," Max said, shoving Carter gently in the chest so that he stumbled backwards. His eyes roamed over the roads as they slipped from the suburbs and onto streets lined with small restaurants and takeout places and small community halls and fabric stores. "But if you wouldn't have been nosy in the first place then—"

"Alright, alright," he dismissed, raising his palms defensively. "None of that really matters. I got nosy, you got nosy. Who's keeping track?"

"I am," Max grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

"The point is," he continued, completing ignoring the response, "that I saved us. So you're welcome!"

"If you think I'm gonna thank you then you're insane," he laughed, raising a hand in the darkness to point forward. "There they are."

Cole was leaning against his parked car, his hands shoved in his pockets and his gaze zoned in on the sidewalk. He was chewing on his lip, not bothering to engage in the quiet small talk between Danny and Tommy, and the light wind was tousling his hair. As they drew closer, Max's heart began to pick up the pace, beating into skipping into thudding. He hadn't noticed them yet— neither had the other two.

Tommy was leaning back against an adjacent streetlight, illuminated by the faint yellow light, with one hand pressed in between the cylindrical surface and his back, the other pulling a cigarette from in between his lips while he responded to whatever Danny, who was stood beside him, has said.

Danny's fingers were intertwined over the top of his head and his elbows were jutting out. He was half lit up by the flickering streetlight glow that he was standing near and he was the first to spot the two figures emerging from the darkness. Unlocking his fingers and removing his hands from the top of his head, he punched them into the air and laughed.

"You made it out!" He cheered, arms dropping at his sides as Tommy and Cole looked towards them.

Tommy stubbed his cigarette out on the top of a trash can and threw it inside, pushing himself away from the streetlight and nodding, as though he was offering them some kind of approval. "I knew you hadn't been caught," he mumbled. "That bastard never gets caught."